"Who Is He?"

'Who Is He?' - Part 30

First of all, I am sorry that it has been so long since I uploaded - I've been quite busy with one thing and another. And now I have exams!

Anyway, if you've still got this saved in your library thank you so much for sticking with it whilst I've been pretty rubbish with not writing it.

Comments would be great but I'll just be thankful for reads after this long!

I hope you enjoy it anyway, thanks again.

Part 30

Dave was holding me so tightly that I was unable to break from the hug to let him know that I was ok, and I actually wanted to look at the photos. The tear had merely escaped due to my instant reaction to seeing John so unexpectedly, not because I was upset by it.

“Dave, I’m fine,” I said, my voice muffled by his shoulder. He held onto me a few seconds longer before releasing me and squeezing my shoulder.

“Do you want me to put it away?”

I shook my head and sat cross-legged on his bed whilst he walked over to the sofa on the other side of his room and sat down, crossing his legs. I flicked over the next page, Dave stood there shirtless with his arm slung around John’s shoulder. I glanced up at Dave and raised my eyebrows.

“You really dislike wearing shirts, don’t you?” I asked, smirking slightly.

He smiled sadly and ran a hand through his hair. “Do you want to come and look at them?” I asked.

He shook his head slightly and looked towards the floor. It seemed I was dealing with the photographs better than he was. I returned my gaze to the album and looked at the next photograph – this time John had followed Dave’s lead and removed his top as well. A chuckle escaped my lips and I shook my head.

I looked up to see Dave walking slowly towards the door before exiting, not saying a word to me. I remained in there until I’d finished looking through them and then left, in search of Dave. He wasn’t in the lounge so I walked into the kitchen to see him sitting at the table, one of his hands supported his head and the other clutched a bottle of beer.

“Alcohol is not the answer to everything, Dave,” I said seriously, though with a touch of humour so it didn’t come across too controlling.

He shrugged but said nothing as he continued to gulp down the cold beer as the condensation form the bottle ran onto his hand.

“I think I might join you actually,” I said, filling the uncomfortable silence and walking over to the fridge, retrieving my own bottle and sitting next to him at the table.

“Sorry if my discovery brought back bad memories for you.”

“What do you mean? They were amazing memories, that’s the problem, Rebecca,” he said quietly but sternly before taking the last few gulps of liquid and placing the empty bottle on the table before getting up and leaving. Departing from my presence that I felt was beginning to annoy him at some points.

I watched the hand print he’d made in the liquid on the glass slowly disappear as I poured the rest of my own drink down the sink – I wasn’t in the mood for it anymore. As I did so, my phone vibrating in my pocket and a small rush of excitement went through my body, the text had to be from Andy, the text I’d been anticipating all day.

The opening of my door and the bright light entering my room through my now parted curtains woke me; my eyes still shut, unable to open themselves due to tiredness.

“Andy?” I mumbled, semi-unconsciously.

“Afraid not. No matter how much he misses you, I doubt he’d rush back this quickly, Rebecca.”